


always coming back

by vannral



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 00:12:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7076485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vannral/pseuds/vannral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes missions are rough. Luckily there are things that make it worthwhile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	always coming back

Clint’s sitting in the living room, in the dim light, just…leaning against his knees, his head hanging low, shoulders slumped back.

He looks so – _so beaten,_ so tired that it makes Peter _ache,_ makes his heart _break._ Makes it shatter into tiny little shards inside his ribcage. 

Swallowing, Peter approaches him carefully, sits down next to him and waits. Waits for something. _Anything._ He trusts Clint with his life, with every fiber of his being, _he trusts_ in Clint. Sometimes life gets hard, sometimes anxiety gets _worse,_ and sometimes they _need_ someone to be just… _there._ It’s their thing.

     “Pete…” Clint’s voice is hoarse, _rough,_ like he’s got gravel stuck in his throat.

Peter nods. “Do you want to talk?” he asks quietly.

Clint snorts, bites back a weary laugh. “Huh, doubt that talkin’ helps anything, Pete.”

     “Okay”, Peter says simply. “Do you want to spar?”

Clint looks up from his knees, and Peter’s stomach tightens into knots. His eyes are tired, _worn._

     “Nah, I – I suppose today’s got enough action in it”, he grunts and shakes his head. “Thanks, though.”

     “Is it okay if I touch you?”

     “’s always okay. Don’t have to ask permission, Pete.”

     “Yeah, I do. You’ve done enough things, so…yeah, I ask.”  

They look at each other, seeing everything; each other’s bruises, pains, _agonies,_ exhaustion; everything is _bare_ to each other, to their eyes.

     “Yeah, ‘s okay”, Clint nods, murmuring, and Peter touches his unshaven cheek. Clint’s eyes flutter shut, and he breathes unevenly.

     “How do you feel?” Peter murmurs, his fingertips brushing so gently Clint’s bruised cheekbone, although he _knows_ Clint’s not okay, this is… _something happened._  

Clint shudders, swallows thickly. “The mission…could’ve gone better. It was crap, like it always is. I’ve seen some serious shit on war zones, but…this was messy. People just…dying on the streets. Gunned down. Men, women. Children.”

     “ _Clint….”_

     “Then you come home and realize how well things are, even if you thought that you don't deserve any of it. That you…were being a goddamn coward.” Clint’s gaze looks up, drifts straight into Peter’s. “I just…I realized again, how fragile and how stupid people are. How goddamn easy it is to get killed.”

Peter’s throat burns. “Clint…“

     “I love you.”

Peter freezes, his hand _stops._

Clint looks at him, still and serious. “I love you. Okay? You hear that? I love you, Pete. I just…wanted to tell you. ‘Cause I don’t say it enough.”

A turmoil of emotions whirl and rage inside Peter; _relief, happiness,_ joy, sorrow, _love-love-love,_ so much love overwhelming, _overflowing_ into him, like hot water, sweet and lovely, and he smiles back shakily.

     “I love you, too. Okay?” They rest their heads together, breath in ragged unison, painful and _intimate._ “And – I worry, okay? Every time you go out, I worry. And every time, I’m so happy you’re back. That you _can come back._ And – and I get why it’s sometimes hard to talk, to – to tell me about these things. And it’s okay. You don’t have to. I’m here, and I love you.”

Clint’s hand, tanned and calloused from all the work and gripping _the bow,_ reaches up, behind Peter’s neck and rubs his skin gently, comfortingly.

     “Yeah?” he whispers, just a breath away from Peter’s lips.

     “Mmh-hmm”, Peter grins faintly back, his vision welling. 

     “Don’t know what the hell I ever did to deserve you in my life.”

Peter chokes back a laugh. “I don’t know if it’s ‘bout ‘deserving’, ‘cause I’m right there with you…and I guess it’s probably more like being…totally corny and messy and awesome together. Also ice cream and pizza.” Clint’s weathered expression softens, the lines around the corners smoothen and settle.

     “Thanks, darlin’”, he murmurs and kisses Peter. It’s slow, _knowing_ kiss, and it tastes like surviving, intimacy, love and understanding. “Love you.”

     “Love you, too. Welcome back.” 

Clint chuckles against Peter’s lips. “Thanks.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> Please tell me if you see grammar mistakes!


End file.
